W’at’s de mattah wid yo’? Is yo’ crazy--?
Walk de streets agin like I did las’ monf?
So hard on me bein’ yere alone--an’ wid de chillen.
Kain’t he’p it, honey-baby. Jes’ got ter keep gwine ’long like we is--’till thin’s break bettah.
Diggin’ in de streets ain’ no kind-a job fo’ yo’.
LUCY BELLE (_feelingly, as she strokes his hair again_)
I knows dat yo’ doin’ all yo’ kin--! Gawd bless yo’--! But I wan’s ter be wid yo’, Sam-boy honey-baby--all de time.
Er--er maybe de week aftah. We been figurin’ on gwine dere all ’long. But le’s don’ wait till yo’ git somefin’ steady. Yo’ kin’ allas git somefin’.
SAM (_turning the thing over in his mind_)
Sho’ yo’ kin! I don’ wan’ ter stay yere no longer widout yo’. Please--!
We could sell off some de furn’ture--an’ maybe jes’ take rooms--
Do--do mos’ anathin’ dat gwine ter make yo’ happy!
Honey-baby! (_Draws back suddenly and searches his face anxiously._) Is yo’ had any suppah? (_He smiles and shakes his head._) Co’se yo’ ain’! W’at’s de mattah wid me! Great day!
Hush yo’ mouf, an’ lemme git down ter dat sto’. (_She grabs up a little shawl from a nearby chair and throws it over her head._)
(_Sam reaches in his pocket, pulls out a bill and hands it to her._)
Thanks, honey. Be right back. Ef Israel hollers go in dere an’ beat him.
(_Sam nods. She goes out hurriedly, Back. Sam reaches over on the table, picks up his pipe and lights it. A knock sounds on the door, Back._)
(_The door, Back, opens and Lizzie Gibbs enters. Sam twists about to see who it is._)
LIZZIE (_doing a sort of languorous muscle dance as she advances_)
I draps ’roun’ dis way--now an’ den--ter see ole frien’s.
SAM (_laying his pipe on the table and rising_)
Jes’ see yo’ gittin’ off a car down on Four-an’-a ha’f Street. (_She waits a moment or two for him to speak, but he doesn’t offer to proceed with the conversation._) How is yo’?
Ain’ seen yo’ since yo’ git back from Atlanta.
Tol’ me yo’ gwine down here fo’ a few weeks--!
SAM (_his manner gradually becoming defiant_)
Don’ stan’ up dere--an’ talk like a fool.
I ain’ studyin’ ’bout no gal dat fights--an’ raises hell--
I know--sometimes I uster--w’en I got mad--But I nevah meant no harm, Sam-boy--
I know, I know--(_Lays a hand on his arm._) Fo’give me, Sam--! ’Deed I did’n’ mean nuffin’ den!